


An Augmented Devil in the Dark

by fresne



Series: Voyages of the Bakerstreet [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Off screen non main character death, Other, Poor Billy, Return of Killander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16214828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fresne/pseuds/fresne
Summary: When the Bakerstreet is sent to investigate sabotage at an ore refinery on Janus VI, their mission is further complicated by the appearance of an old adversary, Captain Killander, whose intention to search the ship puts Billy and Connor in danger.Fortunately, Mrs. Hudson will help take care of things. Just this once.





	1. Chin Singh POV

**Author's Note:**

> Since parsing out a story in which John is experiencing career stress would be... well, no extra stress needed today. Here have a complete story.
> 
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Devil_in_the_Dark
> 
> John is 27. He's known Sherlock 7 years. He's been out of Starfleet for about a year and a half, which by extension means he and Sherlock have been married for a year and a half. i.e., the Honeymoon is over. Don't worry. Just a little bump in the overall row. Also. Still a lot of stories to go.
> 
> But this is the end of what I consider to be Season 5. There'll be a bit of a time jump between here and Season 6.

When Father Noonian had first informed Chin Singh that since her sojourn as a Starfleet officer upon the larger stage, it was far past time she moved out of research and into a more active role in the service of her people, Chin Singh was unsure.

A long term role as Soo-Lin, an engineer, was one thing. All she'd been was herself with a different name and a slightly altered appearance. She had her true name and face back, but for all she'd chaffed for more responsibility before she'd left, now she wanted nothing more than to have time to think in a lab.

Mycroft gave her a dry look and told her, "The reward for a job well done is another job."

She well knew he didn't particularly enjoy being sent back and forth across the galaxy and would far prefer to simply direct operations from the new Breen home world. But both of them were expected to put the needs of their people before individual comfort.

That put a needle of resentment through her for Sherlock's freedom. But when she'd posed the question to Mother, they had merely looked coolly enigmatic at Chin and failed to explain anything. So, as Donovan had been fond of saying, "All fucked up, situation normal."

One of many phrases that she was glad to now have in her store of sayings.

Still Chin was an engineer, not a negotiator. She had none of Mycroft's skills in that area. When she put that forward to Father Meiying, she was told in no uncertain terms to, "Practice those skills." Which if it hadn't been said in a slightly weary and disappointed tone, might have been encouraging.

For a very long time, Chin had seen herself as her parents' consolation prize. The child who survived. With her deceased siblings infinitely more capable than herself. That line of thinking had merely shifted after she'd learned the truth of the situation.

She would have thought that her time on the Bakerstreet would have resolved that feeling. If anything, it had only engendered new aches.

Sometimes she thought about Billy. What Billy must think of her? What it was necessary for Billy to think of her. If Billy ever thought about her? If he regretted that they had not moved more precipitously in their relationship, or if he was glad that they had not? She'd never even imagined Billy's existence when she'd first left on her little trip. Who hadn't even been the reason she'd gone in the first place.

Now every time she saw Billy's grandfather, Grendel, speaking with one of the others who sought connections with distant descendants – she wondered if she should say something to Grendel. Mother surely knew. Mycroft kept nothing from them.

As it was, she'd done a discrete scan on John when she'd first met him and had been glad that he shared less than one percent DNA with Mycroft.

She forced herself to focus on her current mission, which was to negotiate on behalf of the 23rd Breen Alignment to take over the mining facility on Janus VI.

Governor Hobb and the members of the January colony council greeted her courteously. Of course, they were directly experiencing what were mere numbers on her reports. A mining colony with declining production and a declining population in a location that required considerable effort to sustain life.

The Governor and the council were courteous. Chief Gremel, who ran operations at the Janus mine and ore refinery, was a different matter. "Don't need no Breen. We're a Feddy colony We apply for aid again!" He slapped a large hand missing his little finger on the table top.

Hobb said, "We," he glanced at Chin and the three armored Breen standing silently behind her, "tried that, but…"

Chin listened curiously wondering how Hobb would chose to characterize the Federation's basic capacity problem. Even seven years after the Borg attack on Earth, it was evident to anyone who studied the patterns that the Federation had prioritized, understandably enough, getting Starfleet capacity up over refitting aging colonies that no longer had a true purpose given that much of their production could be replaced with replicators. There were some minerals that still had be mined, but nothing on this world.

Gremel said, "Effs sakes, the mine opened up a new level just last cycle."

"All folks found in the new effing shaft," said Jo Schmitter, the oldest of the council members, "forgive my Galactic, are effing round rocks. Good for tourists, but nothing that'll keep the kids from going off colony mo' they can." It was clear from the dust on his hands, the calluses on his hands, he was still actively working in the mines despite his somewhat advanced age.

"Planet's full a' minerals," said Gremel. "Just need new equipment. That's what I thought we were asking the Breen to trade for. Not to give the lot away."

She did not suggest that they should have perhaps approached the Ferengi if they had been looking to trade.

Schmitter leaned forward. "F'yeah, trade new air scrubbers that ain't hundred years old and effed, forgive my Galactic, since my grand pappy got 'em back from the tunnel devil, for a few years worth a' mineral rights."

"All our grand pappys," said Gremel. "For all I know, it's the Breen as been effing with the tech."

"Hunerd year old tech gonna fail," said Schmitter.

"Not goin' walk off all by its lonesome," said Gremel. "Never met a piece a tech that did that." His heart rate was up, but that could have meant anything. She wished Mycroft were there to get a read on his manner. She wished she was back in a lab quietly working on scientific matters.

"Maybe it's the tunnel devil come back," said Schmitter in his old gravel voice.

Hobb chuckled nervously, glanced at her and the Breen standing silently behind her. "No need to bring up old stories."

Chin said mildly, "In exchange for a ten year lease of the mining and refinery operations, the Breen are willing to completely replace the old air filtration system with a more efficient one and I have been authorized to offer to replace your antiquated nuclear power system for a modern fusion system for an option to renew for an additional ten years."

"Fusion would power an eff load of replicators," said Schmitter.

"Schmitter, you're full a shit," said Gremel.

Hobb licked his lips. "I do believe our initial proposal was for the fusion generator to be included as part of the initial ten year lease.

She very much wanted to tell them to take the offer or don't take it. She very much wanted to not be there. But instead followed Mycroft's advice and stood up. "The Breen are very interested in this facility, because it is already developed, but…" she smiled, Mycroft insisted the smile was important, "it is not the only facility of this age in this area. The Federation was very eager to expand into this type of colony before replicators were perfected. Please, take this opportunity to discuss among yourselves."

She left the room knowing that if she succeeded, she'd simply be sent on another mission with no words of praise or acknowledgement. This was simply the expectation of her duty.

Still, when she learned that a tunnel had suddenly appeared leading into the sewage filtration plant, another item of equipment had been stolen, and a starship, the Bakerstreet, was coming to investigate, she ignored the suggestion that they should determine the cause of the issue before the ship arrived.

Instead, she waited and hoped to see someone she very much missed.


	2. John POV

If John had to pin point when it started, it was the new crop of ensigns assigned to the Bakerstreet fresh out of the academy. Crewman too, but for the most part they knew not to get on the bad side of the ship's doctor.

But ensigns – had he ever been that raw – at least not ensign raw, and been a lieutenant senior grade dammit when he'd been cashiered out.

And fine, he wasn't actually in the chain of command. Didn't merit a, "Sir," when getting bumped in the hallway by their surly new petty officer in charge of record keeping.

But it had stung when the power cut out when they passed by an energy stealing space amoeba and the ensign he was currently trapped in a shuttle with " _explained_ " that he shouldn't worry because there was a technique for dealing with the space hazard.

He blandly said, "I know," because he had been there when Sherlock came up with the method based on something John had said, and then they'd taken out the giant amoeba together.

When one of their new crew acted like he hadn't just spent the last six years of his life on a space ship, and that life experience might just come in handy when a mysterious woman appeared and started killing people because some ancient race had perhaps engineered a defense mechanism for their long abandoned dead outpost a bit too well.

He certainly didn't need an ensign whose com badge didn't have a single scratch on it tried to insist that John give him his phaser when their little errand of mercy got an away team stranded on Organia where a rogue Klingon clan was intent on making it their base of operations. Especially an ensign who couldn't hit the broadside of a shuttle.

Even coolly stunning three Klingons earned him a, "Lucy shot, Doc."

Angrily telling the kid that it had been aim, and he might want to try it, had the ensign protesting in the most condescending tone that he'd been complimenting John. Then after a worried moment said, "You won't report me to the captain, will you? I didn't mean anything by that. I wasn't hitting on you."

It made John so angry that his plan to raid the Klingon headquarters when they threatened to start killing Organians was Sherlock level's of rash.

He would admit that.

Barely.

If the Organians had actually been simple villagers and not ascended energy beings who maintained their planet as a reference point, John might not have made it back from that one.

As it was, John felt silly telling Sherlock any of what was going on. It was subtle and silly.

Not that anyone had actually been told him the only reason he was there was because he was married to Sherlock. Hell, that new geo-tech had, in perhaps the most condescending tone possible, complimented him on his intelligence. After arguing with every recommendation John made regarding handling newly discovered minerals based on, oh, getting split into two versions of himself, Cho turning into a giant spider, the planet where everyone fell asleep after touching the dust, and some dozen other adventures.

Minerals could be dangerous.

He didn't want Sherlock to think John didn't love their life. They had a wonderful life. His life was wonderful.

But as crew who'd known him as Lieutenant and Doctor Watson left and were replaced by those who knew him as the captain's husband, John Watson, the ship's doctor, in that order, he could see a trend that he didn't like.

So, if he told Sherlock to quit introducing him that way, it was because he was still a doctor. He'd earned that respect.

If he got angry when during a diplomatic mission, Sherlock practically glued himself to John's side and he could see the ambassador's attaches snickering at them, it was because he'd been in more tight situations than all of them combined. To have not one but three separate people ask him when he and Sherlock were planning on kids, and what Starbase he'd settle on when they did. As if his sole purpose in life was to spit out a child or two. End of adventure.

Because there was still that box in his desk in the medical bay reminding him of certain things he hadn't told Sherlock every time he opened it. A box that was only getting fuller, because space was full of ways to take out his suppressants, and he and Sherlock were still fertile as fuck together. None of which touched on that maybe he did want kids, or he wasn't sure, but he certainly didn't want to when talking to someone who thought that was all he could possibly want out of life.

So he wasn't in the best frame of mind, he could admit that, when Sherlock called up several charts on the wall monitor over breakfast and said, "I would like us to be more physically demonstrative in public."

John glanced sharply at Sherlock over his first cup of coffee of the day. Sherlock had that not so subtle manic look of having not slept in a few days. "Sherlock, this had better not be a chart that tracks how often we have sex."

Sherlock pushed back slightly in his chair and got that little huff that said he was preparing to speak even while John was talking. The words came out rapidly. "That is a separate chart. I am not talking about our sexual relationship, which is excellent…" Sherlock cut himself off, with a shimmy in his chair, "I am talking about public displays of affection. I would like to be touched in an affectionate manner before others more often."

"You mean like you calling me to the bridge to get a tricorder out of your pocket. Or maybe to the biolab because you're sitting on a stylus. You mean draping yourself all over me when we're hosting a diplomatic mission with a race of talking trees and a two hundred year old Vulcan?" John found himself getting more than a bit irritated on his own behalf. "Yeah, I want you to respect me as a professional. I may only have a position on this ship because you gave it to me, but I'll be damned if I'm not respected."

Sherlock's face shifted into the lost puppy of confusion look that John was not going to give into. "But you are a medical professional. A doctor with years of experience practicing medicine in high pressure scenarios. You've faced danger numerous times saving millions if not billions of lives in the process."

"Well everyone who meets me doesn't know that. What they know is here is big Captain Holmes and his little omega spouse, Doctor Watson. Not Lieutenant Watson. Not even God forbid Lieutenant Commander Watson."

Sherlock face did that sort of soft eyed melty thing that John was not going to respond to. "That's," Sherlock cleared his throat, "not my fault."

John did not shout that no, he couldn't have bloody well have turned over the love of his life to explain his magical cure or even offered up poor Billy to that prick Killander, but he'd had dual ambitions once. He hadn't just wanted to be a doctor when he'd joined Starfleet. He'd seen a career unspooling before him. A long climb in the ranks. A rank that would force people to respect him for the Augment he was. Or at the very least an official place in the hierarchy.

So, he got up before he'd say something he regretted and went early to his shift. These days Julian more often than not spent breakfast with Hunter before the morning briefing, so it wasn't even as if he didn't have an excuse.

Eventually, though, he had to go to Sherlock's ready room. The briefing he was only at because Sherlock insisted he be able to attend.

Hudson took one look at John as he sat down and got started immediately. "We're being called in to provide assistance investigating some issues on the mining colony on Janus VI."

"Mining issues," said Hunter. "Isn't that a bit outside the Bakerstreet's division?"

More and more expected to be outside his division.

"Bound to be something to do with the Breen," said Donovan. "If you read the last security briefing," she looked significantly at Sherlock, which given that John knew Sherlock didn't even know who the sector fleet commander was a bit of a laugh, if John was in a mood to laugh, "was that they're really beginning to expand mining operations throughout several Federation sectors."

"Those were the parameters of the Brindinal Peace Accords," said Hudson. "In exchange for allowing Starfleet to establish Federation bases in Breen space on the Cardassian border, the Breen were allowed to establish mining facilities in Federation space where the Federation was not currently operating a facility up to the number of Federation posts in Breen space."

"Fucking stupid parameters," muttered Donovan.

John couldn’t exactly disagree.

Hunter said, "Probably made sense while we were at war with the Cardassians. Although, given the majority of the Federation bases are just listening posts and supply depots, they are kind of stretching things."

Hudson tutted. "What I find interesting is that the Breen were the ones to propose it. They aren't exactly a race famed for strategy. Their governmental structure has always been too fragmented into twenty-two alignments. About the only time they've historically agreed is when the Klingons attempted to cross their territory and they reacted… harshly."

John knew how they felt.

Hudson said, "Up pops a twenty-third Alignment out of nowhere forty years ago and suddenly they are cutting deals with the Federation."

John crossed his arms. He wasn't even sure why he was in this meeting. This conversation. "Forty years isn't sudden."

"Says the man who is not yet thirty," said Hudson with a smile that ordinarily he would have found charming. Ordinarily would not have gotten on his next to last nerve. Not yet thirty and already his career was over. "Oh, dear," said Hudson. She cleared her throat.

Hunter said, "Everyone on DS9 was pretty happy when the Breen reached out to expand on the treaty from the First Cardassian war to give the Federation a second front during the Second Cardassian War. Major Kira broke out some toxically alcoholic Bajoran liquor."

Sherlock sighed. "Boring." Then recoiled a bit at John's look. "Fine. It's fascinating. Utterly riveting."

Hudson smiled coyly at them both. "You're right about that, dear. Starfleet has called us in on a pretty little mystery." She called up the details of Janus VI. Sherlock sat up at attention. "Over the last several weeks, tunnels have begun spontaneously appearing near the ore processing facility. Machinery has gone missing. Some reduced to slag while covered with a particular type of acid residue."

Sherlock's smile shone like electric stage lights. "Interesting. Have there been any changes in the mining operations."

Hudson tittered, "A new level was opened up just as the incidents began."

"Probably, the Breen," said Donovan.

"While as race, they do like to burrow into rocks in space, the Breen do not create spontaneous tunnels." Sherlock stood up and looked at the image on the screen. "This is something new."

Which was great. Sherlock has happy. Nothing to do with John though.

John mentally revised his plans for the evening. Sherlock would be engrossed in studying details.

He could set up some time to get together with Billy. After years of sticking to the ship, it was time to convince him explore life a little beyond the Bakerstreet. Not that Janus VI was a prime spot, but Billy had to have ambitions. Things he wanted to do with his life.

Before John left the ready room, he replicated a balloon and drew a smiling face for Sherlock to stare at from his desk.

About as useful as John felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, John will find his footing.
> 
>  
> 
> Space Amoeba   
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/The_Immunity_Syndrome_(episode)  
> Mysterious Woman  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/That_Which_Survives_(episode)  
> http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Federation-Cardassian_War  
> While technically the Ferengi are between the Breen and the Cardassians, I'll chose to imagine that in this AU they expanded to border the Cardassian space in the blank bit on the map. It is, after all, both an AU and three dimensional.  
> http://startrekprimercontacto.blogspot.com/2015/03/star-trek-quadrants-alpha-quadrant.html


	3. Sestre POV

"I'm not too young," insisted Sestre. "I am precisely the age that T'Valak discovered the properties of Themium."

"Females of our species develop more rapidly. That is why you should look to them for leadership and example," said his father placidly. As if there were any Vulcan girls on board ship. The only other child Sestre's age was Connor, who had been through war and famine, and all sorts of things.

"But Father, how am I to advance in my studies if I am not allowed access to equipment in Engineering or the laboratories."

"You are allowed access to laboratories under my supervision. It's not your intelligence that I am concerned about," said Father. "It is your lack of experience. In many cases, my years of experience inform my subconscious about choices that I should not make. It would take minutes for my conscious memory to recall the facts for why I should or should not react in a certain way. Be logical. Experience takes years to form. Years that you have in front of you."

In that moment, Sestre very much wanted to tell his father that he did not want to be logical, or that his father's logic was flawed.

However, he had done such before and the results had not been in his favor.

Instead, he went to talk to Connor, who nodded soothingly and listened to Sestre.

"Do you think we'll ever be old enough? Know enough to get their respect." He considered the wall. "They wouldn't even let me attempt to save Thil and Shor from the Salt Creature."

Connor made a little gesture, which meant he'd thought about taking Sestre's hand and hadn't. They'd had a talk about that years ago and Connor always listened to what Sestre had to say.

Vulcan's were touch telepaths and Sestre was only now just learning how to properly mind meld. Sestre nodded at Connor to let Connor know that he'd seen the gesture and understood.

At least he had one friend who believed in him.


	4. Martha's POV

Martha's professional pride was stung. She might no longer be a member of Section 31, but she had spent the better part of forty years on missions at the highest level of classification.

She'd married a Tellarite drug smuggler to subvert a Romulan plot. She'd broken three thousand prisoners out of a Cardassian prisoner of war camp. She's stopped a megalomaniac from pointing a planet eating device at the Federation with a hair pin and some strategic pole dancing.

She might have ended her forty year career teaching at the academy scouting for fresh – read young – talent as an adjunct agent, but she had done those things.

It was her own fault for preferring field operations and not playing the promotion game. She'd told herself that as younger and younger operatives doubted her capabilities. Even when silly older woman was officially listed in her set of methods to establish a rapport with an informant. Mothers, grannies, and favorite aunts being not uncommon in the universe across many species.

A comfortable role.

Like a warm sweater worn too long.

Then came the Change. Hot flashes and telepathic abilities set to broadcast. Empathic abilities on overdrive and the general horniness.

She'd been given a commendation and an extended leave of absence from field work that had her ending up at the academy where she'd briefly considered recruiting dear Sherlock – with his many capabilities – or John – with his excellent aim and theatrical background – but really it was better this way. Inevitably John would have lost his temper and Sherlock, well, he'd have ended up in a lab as the subject of experimentation.

All ships long passed in the night, and as it was Sherlock had asked her to be his XO on the Bakerstreet, which had been simply lovely of him. He really was a dear sweet boy.

However, during her forty years of field work, if she'd run an operation at a location being worked by a fellow operative, she had checked in with them not only as a courtesy, but to make sure that their missions were not at cross purposes. She'd learned that the hard way.

Section 31 was not monolithic. The right hand not only did not know what the left hand was doing, the cybernetic arms were completely out of the loop, and don't get Martha started on the tentacles.

Field agents learned to check with each other.

That she would not only not receive a similar courtesy when an agent would be boarding her ship was insulting. But even worse was that the only reason she had any warning at all was Garak had had sent her an amusing video of a cat toying with a mouse when sending her a message listing some of her sartorial options for the next time she visited DS9.

Garak had been Obsidian Order, not Section 31. Emphasis on "ex" Obsidian Order. Had been.

Martha wasn't quite ready to consider herself "ex" and "had been." She wasn't ready to consider forty years of her life over. Wiped away merely because she was over the optimal age her superiors had considered viable.

She preferred to think of herself as adjunct. Reserve. An agent without portfolio, who also happened to be running the minutiae – because dear Sherlock certainly wasn't going to do it – of a starship.

Since a video of a black Terran cat toying with a Terran mouse could only mean Section 31 was about to pay an unannounced visit, it would see a little work to ensure that certain potential assets – and lovely people – weren't disturbed.

Actually, there were any number of things that were not quite to Starfleet code on the Bakerstreet, but all minor infractions. Especially now that Sherlock and John were safely married, if going through a bit of a period of adjustment following their honeymoon period.

Martha could sympathize with John. She remembered how it had felt the first day teaching at the academy. She remembered how it had felt on the hundredth when it sank in that there were no more missions.

Until the Bakerstreet.

It was why she'd used some of her connections to get them the assignment to Janus IV. A pretty little mystery that in her estimation would have the love birds singing the same tune in no time. Nothing made the two of them happier than a mystery, and if her instincts were correct, things were about to escalate somewhat rapidly at the refinery. With the Breen sniffing about, it was possibly industrial espionage to enable the Breen to take over the facility. Although, she couldn't discount some of form of entity awoken by the mining operation. Although, those tended to suck blood or salt first, and wreck machinery later.

Which made her next choice all the more difficult, but really she couldn't see another way through the situation.

She pushed the chime for Billy's quarters.

He came to the door looking sleepy and rumpled. He looked at her puzzled. "What is it, Ms. Hudson."

She slipped past him. "We're in a bit of a sticky situation. Nothing we cannot reason our way out of, but a wicket that is sticky never the less." Confusion radiated out of him and she had one of those moments where she missed the easy communication of her people. The rapid wordless exchange of concepts and ideas.

"Is the ship in danger?" asked Billy. Images of police breaking into his little hidey hole spiraled out of him. Memories of uniformed Humans ripping his screaming child from his arms. Before that, years of living in the shadows in his own childhood. Unfortunately close to the situation. So perhaps it was better that Billy couldn't read minds.

"Not precisely. But a certain element within Internal Affairs," she was too well conditioned to refer to her former assignment in any way other than obfuscation, "has decided to take an interest in us."

Billy wrapped his arms around himself. More meat on him than when he'd arrived on the Bakerstreet, but the bones of that refugee from the past were still there. "Are Sherlock and John in danger?"

Really he was a sweet dear. "Actually, I'm a bit more concerned about the irregularity of your background." She held up her hands. "Your credentials would withstand normal scrutiny, but if you are here when a team from Internal Affairs comes on board there might be questions." Martha could think of a dozen military applications for reverse engineering the super soldier program with access to a second generation Augment. Not that she'd ever implement them. She'd seen at least three super soldier programs go spectacularly sideways in her career, but that didn't stop the knowledge that the applications were there. "But don't you worry, I have had an idea." Not a perfect idea, but no plan survived contact with the assignment.

"What is it?" said Billy. His eyes already scanning the room. His thoughts already turning to what he could do without. What he should abandon if he lost this safe harbor.

"You'll be going with a few of the other parents on a field trip to Janus VI." Hudson reminded herself that no one had actually died on the planet. That the January Colony was over fifty kilometers away from the ore refinery. It was, if not perfectly safe, certainly safer than the Bakerstreet would be.

She decided that she'd suggest that all the Starfleet officers take phasers with them.


	5. Sherlock POV

The situation on Janus VI had elements of interest, but the situation with John was more urgent.

Sherlock had not intended… He had not expected… He had not predicted… None of his models for that conversation had identified that outcome.

It was simply that since that first incandescent phase of their marriage – they were married – John stomping off couldn't mean anything permanent – there had been a concomitant decrease in casual displays of affection from John.

Sherlock had a graph and there had been a marked decrease recently to even below pre-marital levels. He longed for John to squeeze his shoulder as he sat down for the morning briefing. To hold his hand when they were running from spear wielding aliens before jumping off a cliff to their possible demise. To steady Sherlock when they faced Sherlock's least favorite task, politicians. Diplomats. People whose words were at a complete variance from their body language creating a near constant static. Not to mention the advice from the Portrait Gallery.

_Second Father said, "Your emotional connection may not be based on chemical reactions, but his might be."_

_First Father waved that off. "Focus on John. What was the content of his objection?"_

_Sherlock replayed the moment down to the click of John's teeth as John said, "Yeah, I want you to respect me as a professional. I may only have a position on this ship because you gave it to me, but I'll be damned if I'm not respected."_

_"That makes no sense," protested Sherlock. "I express respect for his skills all the time."_

_"In the context of being wrong, you tell him that he sparked an idea in you," said Mummy._

_"The key statement is in the middle." First Father replayed that portion. "He believes he only has his current position because you gave it to him. Because of that, he feels he's lacking the respect he's earned."_

_"If your sexual," Mycroft's lips curled back, "relationship continues unchanged, while there has been a decrease in externally expressed affection that is where you should look."_

Sherlock examined previous missions in the last three months, only to find Hudson shaking him.

"I don't want to disturb your while you're thinking so hard in your mind palace, but there's something you need to know. We'll be having a group of visitors on the ship."

"Who?" asked Sherlock. The possibilities were too varied to predict.

"Captain Killander from Internal Affairs. He wants you to stay on the ship while he joins us. And just when I was hoping that you could have a little adventure with John."

Sherlock flung himself out of his chair, suddenly concerned. If the feelings generated at the idea of his loyalty being doubted after over a decade of service was a fraction of what John felt, Sherlock was in trouble.

Then to make matters worse, the coms chirped. "You have a message, Captain," said Winters. "I'll relay it into your ready room.

Mycroft's hatefully reptilian smile appeared on Sherlock's monitor. "Hello, brother mine. I hope this is a convenient time."

"What is it?" asked Sherlock, who felt really this was just too much. An argument with John and a communication from Mycroft.

"I would protest that that a brother doesn't need a reason to contact his little brother, but I was curious to see if you've made any progress on determining the cause of the equipment failure on Janus VI."

"In that I have not yet beamed down to the planet, no." Sherlock braced himself for a stream of pointers that he should have picked up from the recordings and chemical analysis of the tunnels. Failures in his abilities. Proof that Mycroft was always the superior of the two of them, but it didn't come.

Instead, Mycroft said, "A mutual engineering acquaintance of ours is representing the Breen, who have made an offer to the colony to take over the operation of the old refinery. I hope given what I understand of the current situation that you will keep an eye out for her. It's made things a bit more delicate given that there appears to be sabotage going on."

"Unless you're the ones carrying out the sabotage," muttered Sherlock.

"As if we would ever. We've merely made an offer to a colony with a decreasing population – young Humans just not into mining as they were – that has recently opened up a rich new vein for exploration."

"Exploitation," said Sherlock.

"Po-tay-toe, Po-tah-toe. Hu-man, Hue-mon."

"Sod off," Sherlock clicked a control to make his brother – even just his brother's image – leave the ship.

"Oh, that does explain things a bit," said Hudson. At his questioning look, she said, "Captain Killander's attention may have been drawn in particular by the specific interest of the Breen in Janus VI."

"Not you too," said Sherlock, who was beginning to feel aggrieved by the universe.

"No, of course not," said Hudson soothingly. "If I doubted your loyalty to the Federation, I'd have dealt with you myself years ago."

Which was true. But Sherlock couldn't relax at that comforting thought. Far too many vectors were converging on the situation.

Hudson patted his shoulder and left him to his thoughts.


	6. Other POV

Jo Schmitter liked mining. Done it his whole life. Janus VI weren't like one of them atmo worlds. Lazy bastards could just shoot the shit all day and all night, and not do a lick of work if they so choose. Plants just shat out all the air they could ever want to breathe.

But he could trade working in a mine if it meant his home got a new lease on life.

Jo had never been to an atmo world, but his grand pappy had done told him all he needed to know. Grand pappy had moved to Janus VI with the first wave of miners and never looked back.

For all the trouble in the early days, machinery not working, some kind of local critter mucking up the works, his grand-pappy and the other miners been able to pull through with elbow grease and explosive charges where needed. Blew the critter to hell and kept going.

Meant grand pappy walked with a metal leg and had an artificial ticker, but it was worth it to live on a self-made world.

Stood to reason that if the refinery deal went pear shaped, then Janus folk were out of options. Federation didn't give a flying eff about Janus VI. It was just a rock to them. Sent a starship and then just had it sitting in orbit doing a lot of nothing. Fine, Janus folks would do as they'd always done. Pulled together and got shit done.

It was why when Chief Gremel had asked the miners and refinery folk to step up and volunteer to take a shift guarding the refinery, Jo had stepped up. He and Gremel didn't see eye to eye on the Breen deal, but he was still the plant chief.

Jo's credits on the problem were on a buncha stupid ass kids getting up to shit. Not much to do on Janus 'cept get up to shit. He supposed it was why so many kids headed off planet when they were old enough.

There were rumbling sounds every now and then as the miners detonated charges to push deeper into Janus. Time or two they were closer than he'd like, but Jo wasn't going to get edgy. He knew the sound rock made when a charge was good.

He also knew when something wasn't quite right.

That was pretty much his last thought as he turned to look at the cause of the rumble behind him.


	7. Connor POV

"You have been very quiet," said Sestre looking at Connor seriously. "Is it because of the abrupt nature of our field trip?"

Mummy had woken Connor from a deep sleep. He'd had the same look he'd always had when Connor was little. The look that said the authorities were about to find them. That they needed to move. He knew that look. It had been years, but he knew it.

He still dreamed about it sometimes. His belly tight and yet somehow twisty. Knowing that they didn't belong wherever they were.

Not that morning. Last night he'd been having a good dream about being a robot on the wing of a ship with a firebird for a friend.

He'd opened his eyes to a hand on his shoulder and the worried look.

Mummy had told him they couldn't take more than they could carry. What could be explained by a field trip, but they couldn't say anything. If Mrs. Hudson and Captain Holmes couldn't take care of things, they might need to stay on Janus when everyone else left.

His belly felt like it was full of those worms they'd learned about in school.

Connor couldn't any of that.

So he shook his head no. So He lied to his best friend in the whole universe.

"I believe that you are not telling me the truth, but I will not hold this against you," said Sestre.

Connor gave Sestre a relieved look.

Ahead of them, Ms. Khel said, "Janus VI isn't like an orbital space station," in a teaching tone that Connor had grown to recognize from previous trips to space stations.

Even the sounds of the colony were different. There was no engine hum. No little chirps and beeps that was the ship saying, "It's fine. You're fine. I'm fine."

Thil said, "It's just all rock." While his twin, Shor, murmured his agreement.

Ms. Khel said, "It is a sort of a blend of neo-Primitive with hideously ugly," and giggled like she did when talking about things that Connor didn't quite understand.

The twins nudged each other as they migrated between her and Mr. Shroleb. Like little orbiting moons.

If they had to leave, Connor wouldn't be able to say goodbye to Shrilaas and Keraas, but they were little.

Littler than he'd been when he'd come to the Bakerstreet. They might even forget him. The thought made Connor's belly feel rumblier.

Ms. Khel said, "The colony was founded because of the mines and ore refinery, which were built over a hundred years ago to do what?"

"It was to dig rocks," pipped up Eva.

"That's right, Eva," said Ms. Khel. "It was to dig up rocks that they couldn't find anywhere else."

Mr. Shroleb said, "And there's no atmosphere except what they create inside the planet. That's like a lot of Andorian colonies. Can any of you think of an Andorian colony that's entirely below ground?"

"As a hint," said Ms. Khel, "Papa Shroleb grew up on one."

The twins put their heads together as they tried to remember the name of the planet and made some suggestions. Mr. Shroleb said, "That's not quite it. Remember I showed you vids of it last week."

Mr. Stonn leaned down to ask Sestre to explain the methods that atmosphere might be created.

Eva ran over to the wall of ferns at one end of the promenade and asked Ms. Hebron all sorts of questions. Eva asked lots of questions. Sometimes, Connor though about that one time they'd all lost their memory. He thought must be what it was like to be Eva.

Connor stayed close to his mum. They made their way to through the mall at the center of the colony. There were all sorts of people from all over shopping and eating and drinking. It was a lot larger than the Promenade on DS9.

Connor felt exposed.

Maybe that was why he noticed someone was following them. Connor caught his mum's hand, and nudged him to look in the direction of the hooded figure.

Mum whispered urgently, "Stay with the other parents. I'll deal with this."

"Yes, Mum." Connor moved to stand closer to Ms. Hebron, who was still explaining how the ferns lining the high curving walls were used to augment oxygen production. High above the ferns, storage pallets floated on anti-grav units near the ceiling. Sometimes floating down while someone made a purchase from one of the stores.

Mr. Stonn explained how they worked when Eva asked.

Connor wondered if it would be possible to hide on one. High above the promenade. Safe from view. He didn't dare ask.

Mum stopped by the figure and said something to them. Made the kind of angry gesture that Connor knew was trouble. The figure pushed back their hood. It was Ms. Yao. Maybe. She looked different. Her face had changed. Her eyes were tiltier. Her nose narrower. Her chin was more chinny. Her cheeks cuttyier.

Actually, she made him think a little bit of Captain Holmes, which… he didn't make sense. Ms. Yao had hurt Mum's feelings and Captain Holmes would never hurt them. Connor was supposed to run to Captain Holmes if there was trouble.

Next to him, Sestre asked, "Who is your mother speaking with?"

Connor shook his head. If Sestre didn't recognize her, then Connor didn't want to say. He would want to call security. "I don't know." Lies on lies. Security was not his friend. He wasn't supposed to run to any security that wasn't Ms. Donovan. They might take him away like Colonel Green's men had done. Rip him away from Mummy. Put him in a cage. Hurt him and Mummy.

Sestre said, "Connor, are you okay? You appear even more upset than before."

Connor's mum exchanged several more sharp words with Soo-Lin.

Soo-Lin pulled back briefly. She looked sad. Soo-Lin leaned forward and kissed Mum. It was…

Connor didn't know where to look, so he looked away. This was entirely outside of his experience of his mum. Even when Ms. Yao had come over to dinner most nights in the months before she left, she had sat across the table from Mummy with Connor between them.

"Oh, I…" said Sestre uncertainly. "We should go listen to Ms. Hebron."

"Okay," said Connor. They listened to the lecture about ferns. His mum hadn't come back yet.

Mr. Stonn told them about the engineering necessary to maintain the facility. His mummy hadn't come back yet.

They visited a shop selling rocks. Sestre looked at a round silicone sphere on display, which he pointed out to his father. "Fascinating," said Stonn. "This is a very unusual geological specimen. Given the lack of atmosphere and free flowing water, the probability that such a mineral formation would occur naturally is highly improbable."

The shop keeper smiled with his mouth. "Oh, yes, it's very rare and unique to Janus VI. This was found in a new cave system that the mines just opened up. Well, new. Old. Used to the old Van Gelder shaft, that they had to close up all mysterious like."

"Mysterious?" said Ms. Hebron.

"It had to be shut down due to accidents. Although," the shop keeper leaned forward, "Way I hear it, there was some sorta gas in the mine that had everyone seein' monsters in the dark. They went down to the cave where this unique item was first discovered and set off an explosive charge. Lucky it didn't bring down the whole system on their heads."

"Ugh," said Ms. Hebron. "Reminds me of stories of people throughout history destroying things they don't understand."

"I am more interested in the geologic value of the item," said Mr. Stonn. "What is its composition?"

Mr. Stonn spoke with the shop keeper about various rocks.

The shop keeper manipulated the controls that had the floating pallet where his goods were kept float down. Mr. Stonn purchased a sphere like the one on display and a bunch of other rocks. "These will be excellent for Sestre's studies."

"And safer than the last set," muttered Shroleb.

Stonn ignored him.

Since the bag had a small short term anti-grav unit, Mr. Stonn handed the bag to Sestre, who appeared to have already forgotten all about Connor's mummy now that he had a bag of rocks. "Thank you, Father." Sestre pulled the sphere out of the bag and looked at it wonderingly.

Sestre was very interested in how things worked and would often show Connor his ideas for experiments that he was he was still too young to do.

Connor would miss hearing about all the ways they could explore the universe from a lab. It had sounded nice. Connor would miss that when he had to leave.

He looked uncertainly back at the corridor where Mummy and Ms. Yao had been standing, but he couldn't see them.

"Why are you sad, Connor?" asked Eva. "Don't cry." She curled her fingers around his. "Actually, I've decided Sestre will let you look at his rocks. Even the one from the bad cave. He'll share with you. So actually, don't be sad."

"That's not why I'm sad," said Connor. Eva's hand was warm in his. Her scent was comforting. He'd seen her grow from just a baby, who could only shout, "No," into his friend. He was going to miss her. His belly felt extra rumbly.

He tried not to flinch as someone in a Janus colony security uniform walked by on patrol.

Eva looked around and asked, "Where's your mom?" when they heard it. A faint rumbling from within the wall.

"This area of the planet is not tectonically active." Mr. Stonn pulled out a tricorder and handed it to Sestre. "Scan the rock face like I showed you."

Sestre frowned as he slowly pushed the controls. The tricorder hummed and whirred as the sound got louder. Sestre said, "It is solid rock. I don't see any sign of electrical signals within the wall."

Suddenly, the lights around the promenade flashed slightly brighter before going dark. Eva screamed and clung to Connor, as strings of dim emergency lights came on around the area lighting a pathway towards the space port.

The light from the tricorder turned Sestre's face almost Andorian blue in the dim.

Ms. Hebron said, "Connor. Eva. Come stand by me." Connor took Eva's hand and they went to stand by her mother.

The noise got louder.

"Thil! Shor! Get away from the wall." Ms. Khel picked up Thil. While Shroleb picked up Shor.

Just as a small round hole appeared in the stone wall and... something that looked like Connor's favorite food, peperoni pizza, slid out of the hole. But bigger than the largest pizza. It was at least as big as Sestre if he were laying on his back on the ground.

Several things happened all at once. The creature slid across the floor towards the shop, slammed into the display with the round rock, making it tumble onto its back, which curved to hold it. Eva screamed again. The Andorians moved behind Ms. Hebron, who pulled out her phaser. Mr. Stonn did the same.

The creature shuddered, but the stone on its back didn't move.

The rock under Setre's arm looked like it could drop if Sestre moved wrong.

The creature moved slowly in Sestre's direction. Very slowly. As if it was worried about the rock.

Ms. Hebron and Mr. Stonn fired on the creature. The phaser light brilliant in the dark. There was a hissing sound. The surface of the creature's skin bubbled red. Redder around the cracks. It shifted the stone on its back away from where it was being hit by the phasers and slid a little closer to where they were standing.

"The type 1 isn't enough!" shouted Mr. Stonn.

Lucy stepped forward, narrowing the range on her phaser fire. "Get away from my daughter!" The creature shuddered, but still came closer.

Sestre drew in a breath at something he saw in the tricorder. Something about the round rock. Something about the creature.

Connor thought of the way his mummy had stood kept trying to get to him when then Colonel Green's men threatened to kill him. He thought about Ms. Hebron shouting. That was when he knew.

Connor grabbed the rock under Sestre's arm and rolled it towards the creature.

His mummy screamed Connor's name from across the promenade. For once, he wasn't afraid.

A curl of the creature's rocky surface curled around the stone. It slid backwards into the tunnel carefully carrying both rocks.

Ms. Hebron maintained her aim at the opening while holding an arm to her daughter, who nuzzled against her neck. "It's okay, sweetie. Mommy drove the nasty creature away. It's okay. It's okay."

Connor was swept up in his mummy's arms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… When the lights went out… I… are you okay?" Mummy's hands slid over Connor's arms and legs, while his mummy examined him carefully.

"Why did you give him the rock?" asked Sestre.

Shopkeepers were coming out of their shops. A woman in a security uniform ran up.

The rumbly feeling in Connor's belly didn't go away. If anything, as he burrowed against his mummy, it got worse.


	8. John POV

Killander was the same obnoxious dick he'd been before. He'd actually taken over Sherlock's desk in his ready room. "Fact, Captain Holmes' brother is a well-known agent for the Breen. The Breen have been spotted on Janus VI."

"But not, as I understand it, Mycroft," said Sherlock sourly. "Small favors."

"Fact, the Breen are taking egregious advantage of their treaty with the Federation to move into less than productive or abandoned mining facilities throughout the Federation."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," said John. "Just because Sherlock's brother works for the Breen that has nothing to do with us. Sherlock can't stand his brother."

"That's extremely observant, John," said Sherlock with that weird fake smile thing he sometimes did. He was also halfway across the room from John, which wasn't like him.

"Blood is thicker than water," said Killander. "Fact, when we examined the energy signature in the facility where Khan and his followers cryo-chambers were held, we identified the decay trail of a Breen transporter."

"What, you still on about Khan?" said John. "Soo-Lin turned Khan into ash."

"She turned biological specimens with the genetic signature of Brittanic Augments into ash. There's no way to prove that that biological material were first generation Augments and not simply some convenient corpses. There's no way for us to do a genetic match after that long."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. It's been three hundred years," said John. "If you're that worried, travel back in time and do a raid on some mid-twentieth century facility."

"It has," said Killander tightly, "been proposed and deemed too dangerous."

"Thank the fuck for that," muttered Donovan. At Killander's glare, she said, "What? You don't have to take annual don't fuck with the timeline training in Internal Affairs. We sure as fuck do."

"Perhaps," said Hudson carefully, "Captain Killander, you could share why you are visiting the ship. Other than the Captain's brother."

Captain Killander leaned back in Sherlock's chair. "I have reason to believe that despite that annual training, you brought an unauthorized person or persons back from the past and have been sheltering them on this ship in exchange for access to the healing capabilities that the early Augments had locked into their very blood.

"But what does that…" John stopped as an idea took shape, because he was actually a doctor. "You think if we had such a person," and he thanked whatever impulse had had Hudson get Billy and Connor off the ship, "that you could use their DNA to cross check with the DNA of the remains in the cryo chambers. That if it wasn't at least a twenty-five percent match, you could prove Khan was still out there." Why Killander wanted to focus on the crazy theory rather than someone had gotten angry and irradiated the sleeping bastards, John didn't know.

"That's very clever, John," said Sherlock beaming that weird look again. "You have correctly deduced Killander's motivation for accusing me of colluding with my brother."

"That's not the only reason," said Killander quickly. "Ambassador West died under your watch on a mission where Captain Holmes' brother attempted to gain access to Federation secure records."

"Good fucking riddance," muttered Donovan.

Hudson coughed. "In my day, personnel took the opportunity to gain information from sources on the ground before leaping to accusations.

Killander sneered, "Your day is over. Some of us haven't been so put out to pasture that they don't notice treason occurring under their very noses."

Hudson's expression if anything got more pleasant. "Oh, dear. I suppose I have lost my touch." Her hand fluttered close to her face. "Perhaps, if I could observe you and your people as they search the ship. To refresh my memory." Her hand came to rest on her upper chest near her throat.

John would not have wanted to be in Killander's shoes.

"Just don’t get in my way," said Killander, "And you," he pointed at Sherlock, "Don't leave the ship."

Lieutenant Hunter came into the ready room. "Captain Holmes," her tone that slight bit more formal with the dreaded Internal Affairs on-board, "there's been several more incidents on Janus VI." Her eyes darted to Killander. "An off duty miner was killed at the refinery. At roughly the same time, Lieutenant Hebron and Crewman Stonn were eye witnesses to an attack at the colony by a silicon based lifeform fifty-six kilometers away."

"Two of your crew members have beamed down to the planet. Why wasn't I informed of this!" demanded Killander.

"Uh," said Hunter, which was about how John felt given the main point of a report of an attack by a silicone based lifeform was the silicone based lifeform.

Donovan sighed, completely unphased by the thought of Internal Affairs or Section 31. "The crew have been assigned fucking shore leave. Such the fuck as it is on a rock like Janus. I'd have sent you a fucking list if I'd realize you'd give a fuck."

Sherlock cut in. "They are where we should be. We should be down on the planet investigating what is going on. John and myself. John is a critical part of my investigative process. He's a lightning rod for ideas. I would be utterly lost without him."

John was well past uncomfortable with Sherlock's overly bright tone and expression.

"Eight crew members and their families beamed down to the planet on shore leave," said Hudson. "Oh, dear me, I'll forget my head next. The Andorian civilian spouses of Lieutenant Commander Sh'Alaack with their children as well."

"I'll want my men to go over the logs of the beam downs," said Killander.

"Oh, really? Well, if you think that's necessary," twittered Hudson.

"I do," said Killander. They all stood somewhat awkwardly about, until Killander said, "Dismissed." Everyone but Hudson left the ready room.

Something wasn't quite right. John stood there staring at the monitor when it hit him. "Wait, for someone so worried about the Breen interfering in the colony, Killander didn't care at all about what's going on down on the planet."

"Excellent, very good, John," said Sherlock in a bright tone that couldn't have been more designed to set John's teeth more on edge if Sherlock had tried. At John's look, Sherlock frowned. "You said you want respect. I'm showing my respect."

"Not by talking to me like a toddler, who managed to draw a straight line."

Sherlock huffed a much more like him sigh. "Fine. It's obvious that Killander doesn't care about the cause of the disturbances down on the planet. A Federation citizen was killed, which only makes it more likely that people will immigrate off the colony and the Breen would be able to claim it." He shrugged. "Hudson can handle Killander. I'm more interested in hearing what our personnel on the ground have to say for themselves about a silicone based lifeform. Silicone."

He headed for the lift doors and then paused. "John, why aren't you following me?" He glared at John. "Of course you're supposed to follow me. We can take their statements from the monitor in our quarters."

Which… John glanced at the rest of the bridge crew, who were very studiously not listening to this conversation.

John followed Sherlock into the lift to find out what was going on.


	9. Sestre's POV

Their parents were talking with Captain Holmes and Doctor Watson in an empty conference room in a hotel near the space port, which was on a separate power system than the rest of the colony.

Sestre and the other children were instructed to play on the other side of the room. As if Sestre and Conner were little kids. Sestre wanted to be a part of the discussions. To share his observations. He and Connor should not be grouped in with the little ones.

Like children.

Sestre turned his attention to Connor. "What made you roll the rock towards the creature? How did you know that would cause it to leave? Your answer to Captain Holmes was very vague."

Connor's arms were wrapped around himself. Eva kept looking at him with a worried look.

"I knew when you gasped."

Sestre had shared that the composition of the creature was similar to that of the rock formation with Captain Holmes. "It was unexpected."

"It was an egg," whispered Connor.

Sestre arched an eyebrow like his father did when he heard an unexpected answer. He examined all the information available to them and couldn't understand how Connor had come to that conclusion. "Based on what evidence?" He thought further. "You didn't tell the Captain Holmes that."

Connor flushed bright red. "I was…" he shrugged. "It was a feeling. The creature was behaving… It didn't want you to drop it."

"But how would that equate to the object being an egg? It could be something precious to that species," said Sestre reasonably. It was unreasonable to equate a geological oddity with a lifeform without further information, but Sestre knew better than to say so to Connor. His father had had to talk with him several times on the subject after Connor's Human emotions had been hurt by a perfectly reasonable remark by Sestre.

Eva bit her lip. "I overheard Mommy talking with Sestre's dad. Stonn said the thing is… made of rocks. Actually, I think Connor is right." She scooted her chair closer and took Connor's hand. It always amazed Sestre how casually other lifeforms touched. But then, they weren't in danger of losing themselves in another person's mind through tactile contact.

"Do you really think it was an egg?" pipped up Thil. This could mean nothing good. Nothing good ever came of that expression on Thil's face.

Ever.

Sestre had gotten in trouble many times because of the younger child. The gravity surfing incident, which even had scientific implications, was the most recent example.

Thil said, "If the colonists have stolen babies, then we have to return them." He looked at his twin. "Shor, it could be part of our adventure. You know, to get us ready to face evil Auntie Harry."

Shor said, "We're too young to take them back."

Sestre wanted to argue that only some of them were too young to do anything, and that number should not include himself and Connor.

Eva's face crumpled. "We have to do something. Connor, we can't let that poor mommy lose her babies."

Connor sighed, and pulled Eva next to him on the chair. They curled against each other, while on the far side of the room the adults argued. Ms. Hebron had looked in the records and found that this was not the first time such an attack had occurred. There had been an attack a hundred years ago. A much larger creature than the one that had burst through the wall had stolen the nuclear reactor's circulating pump before being driven off by the miners.

Logical conclusion, the creature was intelligent.

Equally logical, if it had not had the same mass, it might not an adult and might not be a mother at all.

Which Sestre had not realized just because he could hear Ms. Hebron saying the same thing. He'd thought of it himself. He met Connor eyes and realized that with his acute augmented hearing, he could hear the same conversation. Down to Ms. Hebron's angry whispering about imperialism and colonialism. He saw Connor come to a decision, as he squeezed his arm around Eva. "We're not going to."

While Sestre kept thinking that if they were able to resolve this situation, his father must recognize that he was getting older. Could handle more complicated experiments than rocks.

"Yay, a quest!" said Thil far too loudly.

Eva darted around the table and pushed Thil. "Quiet, Thil!"

"I was being quiet!" yelled Thil.

Connor got up while the parents rushed to the table to break things up. He said to his mother, "Mummy, Sestre and I need to pee."

"Do you, do you want me to come with you?" asked Mr. Billy, looking very worried. "I'm sorry, I only meant to leave you alone for a few minutes."

Connor hugged his mother. "I know, Mummy. It's okay. I can go with Sestre."

"My little Connor is getting so big," said Mr. Billy letting go.

Connor looked at the ground. "We gotta go."

They did end up going to the bathroom, because Connor insisted it was a good idea before going anywhere.

Sestre washed his hands. "Are we really going to steal the stones from that shop?" He was not going to refer to them as eggs until it had been confirmed.

Connor said very softly, "I was taken from Mummy when I was really little. They put us in prison and they did things to us. I can't not help now." Sestre knew that had happened not long before he'd met Connor. He very much wanted to comfort Connor in some Human way. It was only reasonable. Connor was his friend.

Instead he said, "I saw how the shop owner operated his storage unit. It contains its own battery power."

It was relatively simple to lower the unit. The promenade was empty. Still dark. Whatever was affecting the power hadn't been fixed. There were several hundred round rocks on the storage unit.

Sestre did examine the tunnel left behind by the creature before entering it with the tricorder, which his father had neglected to get back from him in the excitement.

"The creature secretes," Sestre was quite proud of being able to use the word secrete, he hadn't yet had a chance to use it in conversation since they'd studied mollusks, "acid, but it's gone."

Connor nodded. "I can smell it."

Which had Sestre feeling ever so slightly left out. He had a tricorder, but he couldn't smell acid.

Between them, they pushed the storage unit through increasingly tight tunnels. When they came to branches in the tunnel, Sestre tried to figure out the way with the tricorder, but Connor just pointed. "The smell is sharper that way."

Still, Sestre recorded their route. He was not certain he trusted Connor's ability to find their way back by scent.

Finally, they came into a wide open chamber full of fascinating bioluminescent rock formations. He was about to explain that to Connor, when Connor pointed. There were two of the creatures in a large shallow hollow in the room. One creature was far larger. Its surface was cracked and pitted, charred in some places, as if it had been subjected to an explosion. Perhaps the one the shop keeper had described. The other was much smaller. Only half the first creature's mass. It had a red pulsing wound where Sestre's father and Ms. Hebron had shot it.

The larger creature hissed at them and Sestre froze. But Connor gently pushed the storage unit forward, tapping the control that would have it gently come to rest on the ground. The larger creature shuddered as it looked inside. It carefully removed the eggs – perhaps they were eggs – and placed them in a small pile beneath a particular rock formation, which was secreting a yellowish goo. Sestre desperately wanted to scan all of them, but didn't dare move.

Connor said, "It's hurt. We need to talk to them. Tell them we didn't mean to hurt them. Sestre, could you? You said your Father was teaching you to mind meld."

It was true. Sestre had begun his mental training, but he had only merged minds with his father or mother. Only under the guidance of an adult. This wasn't even a carbon based lifeform.

But Connor said, "Please!"

Sestre sighed and very slowly moved towards the smaller creature. The other creature moved closer, but didn't appear threatened. He laid the tricorder down and began the ritual meditation. "Your mind to my mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts."

As his mind merged with the creature's, he screamed.


	10. Martha Hudson's POV

Killander's team was thorough. Martha had to give them that.

Their reports came back in droves to the ready room from all over the ship.

Martha made pots of tea in a lovely little china set she'd acquired some years ago. Killander checked the contents of every cup before accepting it. Even while his team searched every room and Jeffries tube down to searching for biological material at the cellular level.

Perhaps if Martha hadn't thought to expose Billy's quarters, the day care center, and several other randomized areas of the ship to low levels of baryon particles there might be something to find in those locations.

She had just put out a fresh pot of Darjeeling when Killander confronted her about the lack of anything to find in certain areas of the ship, she pulled up the logs of the last ten anomalies they'd encountered. "Is that a problem? We do encounter so very many anomalies."

"It's suspicious," said Killander.

"Oh, dear," said Martha. She sent him the logs anyway and then asked in her most comfortable sweater tone of voice. "I don't get to hear about the old office as much as I used to. Is Tom Veaker still in charge of area seven assignments?"

Which elicited, as she'd expected it would, a rant from Killander about how Veaker was holding back Killander's career and prospects and the very progress of Section 31. Veaker was an unlikeable and confrontational Human, but he was good at his job.

It meant Killander was sloppy. It also meant that after the unfortunate decision to recall every Augment in the fleet to starbase that Killander's star was not on the rise within Section 31, or he wouldn't be in this somewhat remote area of space pursing a pet project to prove he hadn't been wrong.

When he'd wound down, she innocently shifted topics, "Who do you have looking into the industrial accidents on Janus VI? Following the Breen?"

A smile bloomed on his face. "The Breen have been expelled from Janus VI for tampering with the site facilities. Murder of a member of the colony council. Their attempt to get another toe hold in Federation space was a step too far." His smile was superior. Condescending. Interesting given reports of some lifeform also causing mischief. "Perhaps the native creature would make a more reasonable suspect."

Killander's scoff was all she needed to know. If he didn't think it was the creature, then he had reason to know it was someone or thing else. Really, she had missed this sort of interrogation. "The creature certainly sounds interesting. Especially if it turns out to be intelligent. The prime directive would have to apply." She sipped her tea.

He sneered. "If it was going to be applied, then the time was more than a hundred years ago when it was actually interfering with mining operations." He smiled superiorly. "But, of course, you don't have access to classified records and don't know that information of the creature's intelligence was suppressed."

"No, I suppose I don't." Martha fussed with the tea pot on the table. "I must say, it so fortunate that you're here to shed a light on thing."

"Tell that to Veaker." Killander drank some tea. "I knew the Breen have some connection to Captain Holmes. I'm sure of that if I'm sure of anything. I knew if there were problems with a mining facility in such a prime location that they would come sniffing for an opportunity for the Breen to move in. I knew if there were a mystery that the Bakerstreet wouldn't be far behind."

Martha sipped from her sweet little china cup. She'd been particular about taking the one with the lilies as it was her favorite. "

Killander glared around the room. "We need the Breen pried out of Federation space. Every one of our colony's in Federation hands. That's why I made sure we only interfered with non-critical systems." His hands were wrapped around the cup with the stars. The gentlemen did so love the cup with the stars. Although, really as long as they took any cup other than the one with the lilies it was all fine.

The secret wasn't to slip something into the tea. Any idiot thought to look for an additive to tea. For some reason they never thought to check the cup.

She puttered around until Killander was done with his current cup of tea. She'd had the tea set for years. He might break one of the cups and she was ever so fond of the set.


	11. Billy's POV

Stonn wanted to call security. Billy wanted Connor back and in his arms and getting a severe talking to, and for security to stay far away. "I know someone else we can ask for help."

Shroleb spoke up. "I doubt that the security for a colony world is up to more than teens stealing sleds and the occasional drunk." He shrugged. "The security where I grew up certainly wasn't."

Fortunately, Stonn appeared willing to listen to this reasoning. "That is logical, but we must do something. Sestre and Connor could be in danger."

Billy didn't trust Security.

He didn't know that he trusted Soo-Lin, or even that her real name was Chin Singh. Her face had changed, even her eye color turned out to be different than what it had been on the ship, but that didn't alter her scent. It didn't change the comfort he felt when he was around her. The longing he felt despite his anger. She'd begged him not to ask her about why she'd killed his grandfather while he slept. She'd kissed him and… Billy needed to find Connor and he needed to be sure that security wouldn't take Connor away afterwards. That was all that mattered.

Chin responded to Billy's communication as she'd promised she would.

Billy said, "Can you help us?"

"I'll do everything I can," said Chin, which as it turned out included hacking into the security feeds for the colony. Billy watched as Sestre and Connor operated a storage sled by tricorder light and pushed it into the new tunnel, and out of camera view."

"You go. We'll stay here," said Lucy. The Andorians nodded. "We'll let the ship know what's going on."

Billy was halfway out the door, but he said, "Thank you." They raced through the building, back to the promenade and into the tunnel.

"They went that way," said Chin, as they came to the first branch in the tunnels.

"How do you know?" asked Stonn.

"We can smell them," said Billy. He wanted to race ahead of Soo-Lin, but she put her hand on his shoulder. "It's probably best if I go first. We don't know what we'll find."

Logic that Stonn ignored when they heard a scream. "Sestre!" He took off at a run. They were not far behind, emerging into a long low chamber lit by glowing formations on the rocks.

Sestre was kneeling next to the creature that Lucy and Stonn had shot earlier. Stonn raised his phaser. "Sestre! Come over here!"

Sestre turned a red eyed and teary face up at them. "No, Father. Don't shoot. The Horta, it's a Horta. She's in pain. So much pain. She didn't intend to hurt anyone. Her mother told her to stay away from the humans, but when she found at that there were unhatched eggs being kept by the colonists, she wanted to help. She… she… she's in so much pain! Please, Father! We have to help!"

"It's like me," said Connor urgently. "Mummy, it's like when Colonel Green's men took me from you."

Billy folded his son in his arms. "Shh… shhh… it's alright."

He was vaguely aware of Stonn pulling his son away from the Horta and slowly approaching the much larger creature. Kneeling down and merging his mind with the Mother Horta's. He said, "The Horta are an intelligent race. The Horta tried to make contact over a century ago and… it did not go well."

Chin said, "Billy. We've found Connor. There will soon be security everywhere. Leave with me now. I can take you to Beta Augurea. You remember that planet I told you about. You'll be fine there. You don't even have to… we don't have to… come away with me."

Connor hiccupped a little sob. "Mummy, we have to help!"

Billy held his shaking son in his arms and said to Chin, "I want you to call the Bakerstreet and have John beam down. He kissed his son's head. "Doctor Watson can fix the Horta and it'll all be fine."

Connor burrowed further against Billy. "Okay."

Chin nodded. She took off at a run down the tunnel and out of view, if not out of thoughts and memory. Her rich alpha scent lingering in the air around him.


	12. Sherlock POV

There had been a murder on the planet and a key component of the nuclear power facility had been stolen, a pump for the nuclear reactor. They had been able to fabricate a stop-gap replacement on Janus to keep the reactor from having a meltdown, but it was only a stop gap.

Sherlock couldn't go to examine the remains or the scene. Examine the nuclear plant.

"But it had to be have been the creature," said John. "You heard what Lucy said about what happened before. An intelligent creature that stole the nuclear pump thing once, and it did it again."

Sherlock echoed a thought from First Father absently, "Doing the same thing over and over is the definition of insanity, not intelligence," and knew immediately it had been the wrong thing to say from the way John stiffened.

Which was when he knew what he had to do. Sherlock said, "I'm under orders to stay, you are under no such orders. Internal Affairs has no official authority over you. Killander had no authority."

He could see the realization of that situation blooming in John's expression. "Huh," said John, "You're right."

Sherlock itched to beam down with John, but the grin on John's face as he dematerialized was a palliative of sorts.

The tricorder readings John beamed back were inconclusive. The remains had been incinerated with acid not a beam weapon, but there were no traces of acid leading from the location where the dead man had been found and where the part in the power plant had been stolen. Also, the type of acid did not match the acid remains in the suddenly appearing tunnel into the plant.

_"Consider the pattern," said Mycroft. "Chief Gremel didn't contact you after the murder or the loss of the part, which they were able to replace in less than an hour."_

He was about to contact John to have him search Gremel's quarters when John contacted him. "Sherlock, an old engineering friend just showed up with an interesting problem with rocks. I'll be out of range of the colony communication relay." After a moment, John said, "Love you." And was gone before Sherlock could respond.

He stood in his quarters considering his options and sighed. He tapped his com, "Donovan, meet me in the Transporter Room Cloud."


	13. John POV

John stepped back from the sound of footsteps in the tunnel and wished – again – that the replicator in their quarters could produce a phaser, but he only ever thought of the problem in situations like this. When it wasn't possible to go to the armory and get one.

It took him a moment to parse just who skidded to a halt in front of him. Her face had changed. Her eyes… she… it was like looking into Sherlock's eyes, but her scent was unmistakable. "Soo-Lin."

"Yes. No." She sighed. "There's no time to explain. There are intelligent creatures on this planet, which… it doesn't matter. One of them is injured and Billy is down there. He sent me to get you."

For all of ten seconds he listened to her description of the creatures injures and wished Sherlock were there to think of some way to treat a silicone lifeform, and then then the answer came to John. "Thermal concrete. It has a high concentration of silicone and is used in constructing emergency shelters." John never would have thought that actually having to build an emergency structure on Beyed V when the transporters were once again offline and temperatures were dropping would come in handy.

John met Sherlock's eyes in Soo-Lin's face and wondered just what the ever living fuck was going on, but there was an injured being to deal with. "Come on. I saw some thermal concrete in a storage area."

He briefly looped in Sherlock, adding the "I love you," with a rueful smile for Soo-Lin and led her back into the main building. He had loaded a small sample of the stuff into a rucksack when Chief Gremel stepped inside with a disrupter.

Gremel said, "Thought I saw some folk snooping around on the cameras, and look what I found. The Breen representative, who shoulda oughta left with her tin can friends, and some tool in it with her." Gremel was sweating.

John said as calmly as he could, "Oh, for fuck's sake. You saw me on the monitor with Sherlock. Captain Holmes. The person Starfleet sent to deal with this mystery."

"Don't see him down here. Don't see him ever coming down here what with me finding a Breen agent mucking around the refinery." The man wiped at the sweat with one hand. "He's done for."

Maybe he wasn't expecting John to laugh in his face and say, "You are so fucked. I already sent the readings from the site where Schmitter was killed to Sherlock. He's already figuring this out."

Gremel raised the disrupter higher. "Won't matter. Killander will take care of your hubby."

John had enough time to think, "How does he know about Killander?" when Soo-Lin said, "Please, there are people trapped with these creatures. One of the creatures is injured. It needs Doctor Watson's help."

Gremel straightened up. "Then it's two gems for one mine shaft. Perfect. Show me where they are."

He looked nervous. John didn't like when a nervous man held a disrupter. Much better when it was a bored Klingon than a nervous Human. Even worse were the dozen or so miners outside.

Gremel said, "Look what I found. Turns out Breen's been buddying up with the tunnel devil."

John tried to protest, but they weren't having anything of what John had to say. They and the boring laser they picked up in the equipment storage weren't going to make this situation get any better. Still, Soo-Lin had said Stonn was with the creature. Stonn had a phaser. Not that John had ever seen Stonn fire a phaser, but one problem at a time.

Soo-Lin led them into a branching series of tunnels that finally opened up on a low wide chamber.

Stonn was kneeling next to a creature, tears streamed down his face. Logic overwhelmed by his mind meld with the creature. Sestre had the remains of tears on his face. He was clutching his father's shoulder.

"Boss, there's kids down here. What's going on?" asked one of the miners.

"Effing monster probably stole them to feed to its kid."

John spotted the smaller creature, which was sweating beads of liquid glass from an open wound that spilled onto the ground to cling to the stone. It moved back. Gremel said, "Use the boring laser on the big one first."

"Put that down," said Stonn, emotion making his voice waver. "The Horta are an intelligent species. We have already done so much damage to their people. Killed so many of them. The Horta should have been protected under Federation law. This world should not have been designated for colonization."

"Like I give a flying eff," said Gremel. He wiped again at the slightly greasy sweat on his forehead.

"It killed Schmitter," said one of the miners.

"For Smitty!" said several men, lifting the laser.

Billy said, "It was defending its children." Connor was sobbing.

Sestre said, "It didn't kill anyone."

"Neither of them did," said Stonn, and then unhelpfully added, "This time."

John moved between the miners and the creature. "Stand down. If you want to shoot them. You shoot through me in front of children. Or you can back off and listen to reason."

"Eff it," said Gremel, raising the disrupter.

"John, move out of the way!" said Billy.

But Sherlock wasn't the only who could run headlong into danger. John braced himself.

Fortunately, the cavalry arrived in the form of Donovan. She said, "I found the fucking missing pump in Gremel's quarters." She grimaced. "Right where Holmes said it would be. Lower your weapon. I haven't gotten to shoot anyone today, and my finger is getting fucking itchy."

The miners lowered the laser. "Boss, is this true?" said one of them.

"No, it's not effing true. Want to believe outsiders," said Gremel.

"I repeat, fucking pump in your fucking quarters," said Donovan.

"Please listen," said Stonn. "This species calls itself the Horta. They thought they were only two of their species to survive total genocide when your ancestors detonated a bomb in the Vault of Tomorrow in the Chamber of the Ages. The mother Horta was only able to save one egg. She thought the rest were lost. Then the miners found a new cache of them. Unhatched outside of the Vault of Tomorrow."

"The paper weights we sell to chump tourists?" said a miner.

"They are not paper weights," said Stonn. "They are eggs." He stood up slowly. Wrapped his hands around Sestre's shoulders. The kid looked like he'd been through the wringer.

One of the miners looked at Stonn in horror. "Effing hell. We're effed."

"Why?" asked John. "It eats rock and makes tunnels. You can follow the tunnels to new deposits. It probably can find useful minerals."

The miner looked at John as if he was developmentally disabled. "These creatures eat the minerals we want to mine. Our minerals. Our world."  His lips curled back. "And you're telling me that there could be thousands of the fuckers." He reached over to the storage sled and picked up an egg. It shattered as he threw it against the far wall.

The largest Horta hissed, but stopped moving as the man picked up another egg.

He looked at Stonn. "Be reasonable. We tell the Federation that they're just creatures. Keep the mining colony alive. Keep the Breen out. You can bet they won't stop just because there's some silicone rats down there. Still us against, them. One of them still killed Schmitter."

John darted a glance at Soo-Lin, who appeared to be agreeing with Gremel.

John looked at the sweat streaming down Gremel's face. Scanned him with his tricorder. He said, "I'm pretty sure Gremel killed your friend Schmitter. Reason why he's sweating so much as is the vapor he was exposed to when he threw acid on Schmitter's corpse. The same type of acid I found in the refinery storage area. It's not a match for what the creature gives off. Gremel, didn't you intend to kill him? Were you supposed to make it look like the Breen did it?"

"Is that true boss?" said one of the miner's whose grip on the boring laser slackened. The point lowered to the ground. "Why? We just hit a new vein. You said we didn't need to worry about the Breen."

"We hit crap. Our production has been crap for the last ten years. Breen sniffing around looking to take our world off our corpse. All we've found are these stupid paper weights. Way my contact figures it, we can show the Federation the Breen are putting the move on. Get Starfleet to put a base on planet. We'll get all the creds from supplying a base. Sell 'em paper weights and shined up rocks. Keep the Breen away from our world."

"Eggs," said Connor. "You've been taking away their babies." He darted from under his mum's arm and grabbed the egg from the miner's hands. He rolled it to the largest Horta. "Here you go." 

"Straight up Prime fucking Directive stuff there," said Donovan, raising her phaser. "I will fucking stun the next person who behaves like an arsehole."

"You won't get a chance." Gremel raised his disrupter. There was a hissing sound. A flash of light. Gremel dropped the disrupter and clutched his hand. A clean burn through and through.

John glanced at Soo-Lin. She said, "My weapon doesn't stun." She smiled brightly.

"You seem…" Donovan shook her head, "Fuck it. Let's get these arseholes out of here." She and Soo-Lin herded the miners out of the chamber.

John looked at the poor shivering Horta. "Stonn, tell it that I'd like to see what I can do about its wound. That I'm a doctor."

Stonn nodded wearily and communicated with the larger Horta, who hissed, but didn't react in a deadly way as John scanned the Horta. John laid careful trowels of the grey thermal concrete while kneeling in the glass beads of the smaller Horta's tears.

"The Horta wants to thank you," said Stonn.

"Just doing what doctor's do," said John, leaning back, smudging grey marks on his black fatigue trousers.

"No, it means earlier," said Stonn. "When you stood between its child and danger. They are the sole remaining members of their species. Had they died, these eggs would never have hatched. Even if they did, those Horta would have had no way of knowing about their civilization. Their species. Had they died, all that the Horta are would have died with it."

"Oh," said John. Laying on another layer of concrete over the wound. It was certainly something to think about. Even as they all made their way out of the tunnels and back to the colony.

It was apropos of nothing and everything that when they arrived it was to find Sherlock arguing with Mycroft.

Mycroft said, "It is quite simply not possible. I'm much more interested in the attempt by a Starfleet officer to create an incident with my clients."

Sherlock groaned. "Of course you're much more interested in doing anything other than answer my questions. I have statements from multiple individuals claiming that…"

"I'm sorry, but I simply don't have time to chat. The Federation will soon declare that this world is off limits to anyone but the Horta and a team sent to help them recover from the damage the Federation has done. While I have to find a new candidate for a new Breen mine."

"Soo-Lin," said Sherlock.

"I don't know anyone with that name," said Mycroft.

John went over to him and kissed his husband's cheek. At Sherlock's startled and delighted look, give him full throated snog.

That got Mycroft to sod right off. There was a Governor to hold hands in front of, because fuck if John was going to give a fuck when he'd just saved a species.

As it happened, the Horta were a good deal nicer than John would have been and agreed to allow the colonists to stay on planet provided that they stayed above a certain strata of the world.

They went back to the ship, which was now Killanderless, but did contain a sweetly smiling Hudson. She said, "I sent a recording of certain key statements he made to an old acquaintance in my previous division. His recall was… speedy." She gave her fingernails a demure look. "Killander thought I was a silly old woman."

"Then he was an idiot," said John stoutly.

"He is that. And it can be tiring proving my worth over and over to idiots. Then I remind myself how fortunate that I've found a home where there's a relatively low quotient of idiots." She picked a piece of fluff off his fatigues. "Our captain just can't stand them."

Which given the way Sherlock was glaring at some of the egg shell fragments that he'd been given from the Horta earned Sherlock another snog. This time in front of the bridge crew, who were actually somewhat used to that sort thing.

But Sherlock never would be. John could tell that from the way Sherlock preened and smiled, and took his hand before they went to sit on the command couch.


	14. Billy POV

Billy hid Soo-Lin's communication device deep in his bag of belongings.

He didn't turn it in to Donovan. He unpacked every item of his and Connor's few possessions in their rooms, which smelled like ozone and lilacs.

He tucked his son into bed. He took out the communications device. Brushed the smooth curve of it against his lips.


End file.
